So I’m 13 and I’ve tried to edit this ( I’ve tried to put some commas in as well) I’m wondering if it catches your attention it’s supposed to be the beginning of my story but I’m kind of unsure of it. Is it good or bad? By the way if your a very hard core religious person I’d suggest you don’t read this.

“ You don’t know how hard it is! My wives always die!” Satan pouted.
“ So? Is it my fault that you take a fancy to mortal women!” God muttered back.
I stood there stiff, and as still as a statue holding their tray of delicious smelling cakes, and serving them hot, steaming tea.
I wondered if the two ever got tired of bickering. It was always the same nonsense “ You never pay me enough respect.”, “ You forgot to bow when passing by my statue!” or “ The mortals find me more handsomer than you.” A million years, and their bickering never seized.

Every decade the two would meet up for a “friendly” meeting. Discussing how life was, who was there latest wife, and of course how humanity would survive and progress which wasn’t as important as the other subjects. I was just the small angelic maid who stood there, not moving or breathing serving tea.

It wasn’t the best job in fact, I had nothing to brag about however, I was paid pretty well. The only down side was having to stand there and listen to their constant arguing.
“ I never get to have any new prophets or messiahs.” complained Satan.
“ That’s because you don’t need any. Your prophets are too powerful! The last on almost caused the earthquake in Haiti last January!” God explained wearily. “ I’m the one who needs the prophet!”
“ You sicken me the least you could do is grant me the simple wish of giving me a prophet!”
“ In your dreams!”
They were arguing again soon they’d be yelling I thought grimly. Though I was forbidden to speak much or mess with the argument or try to split it up much less.
“ I never wanted to be lord of the dead! I told you all I wanted was to have a huge empire!” He yelled back at God.
“ Oh sorry mister I need it all. You should have taken my offer I presented you to become one of my angels wouldn’t that have been enough for you?” God questioned I could see in his eyes he was losing patience.” Anyways you sinned.” he added a moment later.
“ Oh well I didn’t want to be considered one of the thousands of archangels of yours!”
They began yelling about prophets and, who should really be granted the messiah. I began to lose patience this wasn’t a peaceful meeting this was more like a war meeting.
“ Maybe you should both get a prophet. Twins.” I couldn’t believe it but I found the words easily slipping out of my mouth. The two froze having heard me. Realizing I’d broken one of my rules I nervously stuttered “ S-sorry my lords I meant more tea.”
“ Now that doesn’t sound like an awful idea Abigail” God said he stroked his beard.
“ Sounds pretty good to me.” Satan agreed.
A nervous sigh of relief escaped my lips so I wasn’t going to be terribly punished after all. That was how the birth of Elisabeth and Jason Hope was decided. Two unknowing but powerful messiah’s. I should have felt great but I knew that the fate I’d bestowed on them with that one outspoken comment.
Would forever haunt me.

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